


The Aftermath

by Homophobia_is_gay



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-29
Updated: 2015-05-29
Packaged: 2018-04-01 19:02:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4031104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Homophobia_is_gay/pseuds/Homophobia_is_gay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Allison's death, Stiles is falling apart. Derek is there to help.</p>
<p>Or, what should have happened in season 4.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> it's 4am, my eyesight is blurry asf, and i'm hyped up on 3 cans of coke. this is the mess that follows, it's terrible, im sorry, i love putting stiles stilinski through emotional pain. also, i hated they left out stiles' reaction to allison's death, so here is what i think happened.

The day of Allison's funeral was the day that Stiles locked himself away in his room with his dad's whiskey, and drank until the sun went down and then came back up again. 

His phone had been ringing and dinging constantly until around 1am, when he threw it at his bedroom wall and it smashed into pieces. He supposed he would regret it later on, but with his mind clouded with alcohol, he couldn't bring himself to care. 

While sat there, all he could imagine was the look on all his friend's faces as he hid at home, like the true coward he was. Scott would be even more upset that Stiles hadn't shown, Lydia would be furious, Isaac would just give him one of those looks. And Chris. Ugh, Stiles couldn't even think his name without wanting to throw up. All his family were dead, and Stiles didn't ever think he could face the hunter again. Luckily, Stiles didn't plan on leaving his room ever again, so that didn't seem like a difficult plan anyways. 

His dad had gone to the funeral, probably sprouting some lie that Stiles was feeling ill. And he was indescribably grateful. He didn't push Stiles to go, he actually hadn't been pushing Stiles a lot. Of course, this was because it was summer. As soon as school started, his dad would be steering him back to academic achievement, which Stiles thought was reasonable enough. He just didn't feel pleased with the idea. 

Scott would be over sometime today. But that didn't mean Stiles was going to talk to him. In fact, Stiles was going to ignore him and everyone else for as long as possible, before putting on a brave face and actively lie in front of a bunch of werewolves. It seemed like a great idea to his fuzzy mind, and he was going to relish in the stupid plan until he sobered up enough to realise the faults.

He sighed when he realised he'd run out of alcohol, and pushed himself in to sitting position so he could watch as sunlight creeped through his blinds and lit up his room. 

Another night without sleep had gone by. And you could tell, because Stiles constantly looked as if he was about to pass out. The bags under his eyes could be described as bruises, and his skin was so pale and sickly that even a snowman would be jealous. Ha, Stiles thought, maybe I am an abominable snowman after all. 

He didn't have insomnia, and didn't have PTSD, but he was still majorly unsure of what was real and what wasn't. He counted his fingers three times an hour, and always found himself staring at his dad whenever he could, trying to decide if he was real, or just a really successful copy cat. 

And that was why Stiles was ignoring his friend as much as he was. Because he didn't know if they were actually there. He couldn't speak to them without thinking that the nogitsune would turn up any second and ruin it all over again. He just couldn't. 

He supposed that he should have told at least Scott, but when he came over, Stiles just sat on his bed and listened as his dad and Scott tried getting him to answer the door. The first time they tried, he had cried and listened as Scott started crying on the otherside as well. He'd been so close to unlocking his door, feeling so guilty that his best fucking friend was feeling like that, but a doubt had stopped him...what if this wasn't real?

And Stiles was beginning to realise that it was unlikely the nogitsune would play out a dream like this for so long, but there was always a flicker of doubt, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't ignore it. 

Scott left around twenty minutes after trying to talk Stiles out, probably speaking to his dad again and having a coffee with him. Stiles wanted to join them, but waited until Scott had gone before unlocking his door and stumbling out. 

After that he'd showered, not bothering with flapping about with the temperature, meaning he'd been standing under a freezing spray. In ways it helped, like keeping him awake and sobering him up, but it also made him feel shitty and moodier than he normally would. And that was saying something.

His father had heard him coming downstairs, so there was a coffee poured and waiting for him by the time he got down there. Stiles gulped it down without a seconds thought, ignoring the scalding of his mouth, and focusing on the fact he'd be able to stay awake for a longer period of time. 

"You need to talk to him sooner or later." His dad greeted, eying Stiles from over his morning drink. 

"Later it is then." Stiles grumbled, pouring himself the remaining coffee from the jar and grimacing when it splashed onto his skin. His dad sighed and rubbed his eyes, looking exhausted while standing in his uniform. 

"I know it's been hard for you, and you know I'm not going to push you into doing anything, but the longer the wait the worse it'll be. Just...remember people are here for you Stiles, and they aren't going anywhere." He said, making Stiles lean back against the counter and stare down at his steaming coffee, knowing his father was right. 

"I-I'll think about it." Stiles offered, which was enough for his dad. They shared a weak smile before his dad checked the time, now realising it was time for work. 

"I'll be back at 5, but I suspect they'll call me in again afterwards. Try going out today, you're starting to stink up the house." He joked, giving Stiles a kiss on the forehead and pat on the back before jogging off to his car. 

As soon as the front door was closed, the house was left in an uncomfortable silence. It was always quiet now, and he did his best to make sure that wasn't the case when left alone. He'd switch the TV on and have it as background noise, or actually wash his clothes to have the subtle hum of the washing machine or dryer. 

Today he opted for the TV, and settled down after popping in the first episode of the Star Wars trilogy. He'd been working through the stack of DVDs, and was already half way through, meaning soon he'd be stuck watching re-runs of chat shows and Friends. After that, he'd probably have to begin at least thinking of talking to his friends.

***

Halfway through The Empire Strikes Back, somebody began knocking on the door. 

Stiles had frozen and muted the TV, before slowly getting up and peaking through the curtains. And if he was honest, he wasn't expecting Derek Hale to be standing there. 

He thought Scott or maybe Lydia would be coming around to talk, like they'd been trying to do all week, but instead it was Derek, who Stiles hadn't seen since the incident. 

And he was immediately conflicted. 

Not wanting to speak to anybody included Derek, because if he wasn't willing to speak to Scott then he wasn't willing to speak to anybody (apart from his dad). However, this could be important. Derek was rarely one to consider feelings and never had he comforted Stiles in anyway, so something had to be wrong. And Stiles may have been slightly emotionally traumatized, but if his friends were in trouble, that meant he should be protecting them, even if he can't bring himself to speak to them. 

"Stiles, I can hear you breathing and muting the TV after I knocked on the door gave you away immediately. Open the door." Derek shouted, looking along the windows and freezing when he found Stiles staring at him. There was a pointed look, which made Stiles sigh and open the door. 

"What?" Stiles grunted, not even trying to be polite about it. Derek raised his eyebrows at the bluntness, before physically turning Stiles around and guiding him back inside before following. 

"Sit." Derek commanded once they got to the sofas, but Stiles stayed stood up and crossed his arms defiantly. 

"No thanks, I'm fine standing."

"Yeah, well this isn't something you have a choice about." Derek sighed before pushing Stiles onto the sofa. He glared up at the werewolf before electing to ignore him completely and go back to watching Star Wars. He unmuted the TV and focused back on it.

It lasted around 5 seconds before Derek snatched the remote and turned the whole TV off, making Stiles exhale loudly and glare up at the older man, "I was watching that."

"And now you're not, so get over it and listen to me for a few minutes." Derek huffed before sitting on the living room table, meaning he was directly in front of Stiles, who was staring down at his hands and silently counting them in his head. 

"Get on with it then, I've got things to be doing." Stiles lied, which Derek obviously caught and gave him another pointed look about. But it then kind of switched to a look of worry once Derek was able to finally get a clear view of Stiles' appearance. 

"Are you sleeping? You look dreadful." Derek pointed out, like Stiles didn't already know. 

"Jeez, thanks man," Stiles scoffed, running a hand through his unkempt hair, "If that's all you came here to tell me, then you've wasted at least $15 of gas."

"Don't evade the question."

"Then don't ask questions you already know the answer to." Stiles snapped, making sure Derek got a good look at his bloodshot and hollow eyes. 

"Alright, then why are you avoiding everyone?" He asked, getting straight to the point. Stiles blinked rapidly for a second, before laughing, but it was without humour. 

"Take a wild fucking guess Derek, I'm pretty sure you can come up with something." 

"Oh I can come up with plenty of ideas, but none of them are serious enough for you to be acting like this." Derek growled, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. 

"Fuck. You." Stiles spat, before going to get up again, only to be shoved back down.

"No, fuck you. Do you know how stressed out Scott is? He's stretched so thin he's close to snapping. He has to look after the pack, deal with his anchor being ripped away from him, and also deal with you. He reeks of anger and sadness, and yet he's still trying to reach out to you."

"And why the hell do you care? Huh? You've never given a shit about the well-being of Scott before, so stop acting so high and mighty, you fucking hypocrite." He hissed, making Derek scoff and lean back.

"In case you haven't noticed, I've saved Scott's life as much as he's saved mine, so yeah, I care about him. If I'm honest, it seems I care about him a lot more than you do at the moment." Derek said, making Stiles tense and look back down at his hands. He knew Derek was right, Stiles was being selfish and a horrible friend, but it felt like a slap in the face hearing someone else say it. 

He ignored Derek and began counting his fingers again, this time bringing them down into a fist once he'd managed to count all ten of them. Then he sighed and rubbed his stinging eyes. 

"What are you doing?" Derek asked, making Stiles look up. He frowned at Derek, who pointed down at his hands, and Stiles realised he'd begun counting again. Stiles shook his head and sat on his palms before looking back up at Derek. 

"I-It's nothing, just forget-"

"Do you still think you're dreaming?" Derek asked, genuine concern crossing his features. 

"What? No, of course not." Stiles spluttered, soon realising what a stupid thing to say, because now Derek definitely knows. 

"Stiles..." Derek started, that was soon cut off by Stiles getting up and going to the kitchen, needing to get a glass of water to calm down. He couldn't deal with that fucking tone. That tone of pity which he had to deal with throughout his childhood. 

So he poured some water and ignored Derek when he entered the room, his stride a little less confident and angry than before. Stiles sipped the water slowly, gripping the glass tightly so his hand didn't shake. 

"You should have told someone." Derek muttered, just loud enough for Stiles to hear. 

"And say what?" He snorted, "'Oh hey guys, just to let you know, I have trouble excepting that you're all real and not some screwed up dream! Anyway, did you guys hear about the new Star Wars film that's coming out?'"

"For God sake Stiles, do you know how fucking serious this is?! I mean, how much sleep have you gotten?"

"Oh no, I thought this was just some big fun joke, something to get you all laughing. Of course I know how serious this is, do you think I'd be sat inside doing nothing if I hadn't realised?" Stiles ranted, making Derek sigh and run a hand through his hair. 

"Again, stop avoiding my questions. How much sleep have you gotten?" Derek questioned. Stiles shrugged and focused back on the glass of water in front of him, but after Derek said his name again, this time with a more dangerous edge, he muttered the answer. 

"About ten hours."

"Ten hours in the past two days?"

"Ten hours in the last week." Stiles admitted, not seeing the point of hiding the truth from Derek, he'd find out anyway. He heard Derek's sharp intake of breath, before he realised Derek was moving slowly over to him. 

"How are you even still standing?" Derek asked, "By not sleeping you develop paranoia and anxiety, which is the reason why you're freaking out about these dreams." 

Stiles shrugged and finished off his water before turning back to Derek. He didn't have much else to say. 

"You're going to bed Stiles." Derek ordered, making Stiles glare and shake his head rapidly. 

"No."

"Yes, we're not arguing about this."

"We are arguing about this. I said no, and I mean no."

"I'll carry you upstairs if I have to, this isn't healthy."

"No shit dumbass, it's not that I want to be constantly putting off sleep, is it?" Stiles snapped, making Derek frown and step forward until he was only inches away from Stiles. 

"Then why are you?" He asked, and Stiles felt a lump form in his throat. He pushed it down and ran a hand over his face before realising he couldn't be bothered to keep it down any longer.

"You wanna know why I'm not sleeping? Fine, have it your way." Stiles began, glowering at Derek unhappily, "I can't sleep because if I do, I don't know if I'm dreaming when I wake up. I have to count my fingers five times after I wake up, I have to go downstairs and make sure my dad hasn't been replaced by the nogitsune, and I have to try and remember if everything was the same before I slept. And when I do sleep, all I dream about is Allison. I see the Oni driving the sword through her stomach, and I see my best friend sobbing. But then they all turn on me. They blame me, they hate me, and I don't freaking blame them! If I'd woken up sooner, if I hadn't let him enter in the first place, then Allison would still be alive, and-and..." Stiles found he couldn't carry on, and that tears had sprung to his eyes and were beginning to fall down his face. 

He couldn't believe he'd started crying in front of Derek Hale. However, he definitely couldn't believe it when Derek pulled him into a hug. It took a moment for Stiles to respond, but when he did, he clutched Derek's leather jacket and shoved his face in the werewolf's neck. And after Stiles had started, he found he couldn't stop. 

He felt like such a dick. He wasn't the one who should be crying, it should've been Chris and Scott and Lydia. They were the ones most effected, they were the ones who lost the most, but Stiles had been bottling it up for a week and well, Derek was the first person he'd properly spoken to apart from his dad. 

"Everything's fine, you're okay." Derek hushed, making Stiles scoff and pull away slightly to he could look up at Derek.

"No it's not, everything sucks and Allison should still be here. I should have died, not her." He muttered, making Derek scowl and growl lightly at Stiles. 

"Shut up, you idiot. Say that again and I'll...I'll beat you up." Derek said, softly with a bit of humour. It made Stiles smile a little.

"That's pretty counter-productive when you think about it."

"You're pretty counter-productive."

"Wow, how'd you think that one up? Really got me there." Stiles laughed, making Derek smile lightly along with him. This was how it was supposed to be, and Derek was going to make sure Stiles stayed like this from now on. 

Once they'd pulled apart, Stiles leant back against the counter and sighed, "You're still gunna make me sleep, aren't you?" Derek nodded and Stiles pouted, but this time didn't even try arguing. 

Derek took his arm and lead him upstairs to his bedroom, which still stank of whiskey, which Derek noticed immediately. Stiles shrugged and slipped out of his jeans before glaring over at the bed, like it'd just personally insulted his honor. 

When Stiles turned back to Derek, he blinked in surprise, because the werewolf had stripped off his jacket and taken off his jeans as well. Stiles couldn't help checking Derek out momentarily, before the question came flying from his mouth. 

"What are you doing?"

"Getting ready for bed, what does it look like?" Derek said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Um, okay, you wanna tell me why you're going to sleep with me?"

"Because when you wake up, you'll know it isn't a dream, and if you have a nightmare, I can calm you down." Derek announced, making Stiles smile widely. 

"I can't believe I thought you were scary. You're like the biggest puppy I've ever met, apart from Scott obviously." 

"Dog jokes, really? I thought you were above that." Derek groaned, making Stiles shrug.

"Gotta get my kicks from somewhere, haven't I?"

"Whatever, just get in the bed." Derek commanded, making Stiles roll his eyes.

"You could've brought me dinner first." He joked. But he did as Derek said and slid in the bed, before plumping up his pillow and taking a few long breaths, his heart rate beginning to spike.

"Hey, chill out. I'm here, and I'm not a dream, and the pack is gunna help you through this." Derek reassured him. Stiles smiled softly and nodded, before finally closing his eyes. 

His heart rate slowed and he was out in minutes, leaving Derek stuck underneath a pale arm and leg. He reached for his phone and sent a quick text to Scott, it's sorted, before closing his eyes and letting out a long sigh. 

Before long, Derek was asleep too. And he was there when Stiles woke up the next morning.


End file.
